


And after that and after that

by Teatrolley



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Break Up, listen there's a lot going on idk, post-break up related angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13623105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teatrolley/pseuds/Teatrolley
Summary: It's working for themIn some sense of the word, at least, it’s working for them. They’re exes, sure, but they’re friends first, and Isak can ignore the feelings and the jealousy, too. It's workingThen Sonja and Even break upOr: They’re friends, and roommates, and exes. Then Even becomes single again





	1. Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [And after than and after that](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15050033) by [sunny_witch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunny_witch/pseuds/sunny_witch)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can all tell where this is going
> 
> this is the most perfectly i’ve ever utilised the three-act structure so like pls if there’s any hollywood executives out there, i’m ready for my closeup aka. to write scripts for you
> 
> also i'm back (!!) with evak au stuff lol. i don't know what this is but i was in a mood so you know. hope you enjoy!

That morning, when Isak wakes up, Sonja is hogging the bathroom.

“Hurry up,” he says, knocking on the door with a fist a few times. “Come on.”

“I’m showering,” she calls back, from the other side of the door.

“I live here.”

“I’m showering."

“I need to get some stuff, or I’ll be late.”

“I’ll be done in a second,” she says, before he hears the shower curtain being pulled aside with a strong tug. “Jesus Christ.” 

The door opens and she’s wearing a towel, hair wet, looking like she might kill him. 

“You’re like an annoying little brother.”

“And you’re like an annoying older sister,” he shoots back, ignoring the way she groans when she pushes past him towards Even’s room, before he calls the last bit after her: “And I’m the one who lives here.”

She shrugs him off, with a wave of her hand, before she shuts the door behind her.

Later, when he’s making breakfast, showered and dressed and everything else, he pops four pieces of toast in their toaster and turns the kettle for Even’s tea on. A moment later a door opens, and the man in question steps outside into the living room and kitchen that’s all in one.

“I love waking up to the two of you yelling,” he says, as he jumps onto the kitchen island stool. “Such a pleasant morning sound.”

Isak turns around to face him, sitting there and looking amused, with his hair not yet done up.

“Tell her to stop hogging the bathroom, then.” 

“I can hear you, you know,” Sonja calls from Even’s room, and Isak, instantly annoyed again, turns back to the toast. The first piece he butters he puts on a plate, and hands it over to Even.

“You made her this,” he says, which Even snorts about. Still, when Sonja comes out, he turns to her with a charming grin.

“I made you this,” he says, and hands it over, and Isak rolls his eyes. He’s not even trying to make the lie convincing.

“Thanks, Isak,” Sonja says, looking around Even to catch his eye, but Isak simply shrugs.

“I didn’t make it,” he says.

She shakes her head.

“Whatever. I’m late anyway, I need to go.” And then, to Even, in a much softer voice: “Text me later?”

“Mm-hm.”

Isak looks away while they kiss, ignoring the unpleasant ache of it, and ignoring the jealousy, too. It’s not like it’s something he has a right to feel.

“See you,” Sonja says, still that soft voice, and Even’s is soft when he replies, too:

“Yeah, see you later. Have a good day.”

“Thanks.” And then, without any of the tenderness: “Bye, Isak.”

“Bye,” Isak says, and turns around again to watch it as she goes. The moment the door has closed behind her, Even turns to him with his brows raised, in a way that’s both questioning and amused. Isak just shrugs.

“Tell her to stop hogging the bathroom in the morning when she sleeps over.”

Even shakes his head, like the whole thing is ridiculous, but he smiles, too.

“Alright,” he says. “For you I guess I will.”

*

When he finds the seat besides Sana in the lecture hall, his bag too filled and his jacket nearly falling out of his arms, he’s already exhausted again. Luckily it’s the new building today, where the lecture hall has padded seats, and if it’s as boring as he thinks it’s going to be, Sana might even ignore him taking a nap and let him.

“You look exhausted,” she says, once he’s finally dropped down in his seat, taking a deep breath because he had to hurry from the tram-stop. Sonja really did make him late. “What’s going on?”

“Just regular stuff.”

“That could be a lot of things,” she says, and as he picks his laptop out of his bag, he gives her a pointed look. “It could,” she protests. “Anyway. How’s Even doing?”

“Don’t you already know?” She shrugs. “He’s fine. How are you doing?”

“For a generally smooth guy, Isabelle, you’re incredibly bad at deflecting.”

“Indulge me,” he says. “Please?”

“Okay. I’m doing great, thank you.”

“Good.”

“Yousef is a talker, so we’re talking, although I’m not sure if we’re getting anywhere.”

“Annoying.”

“Hm. And Vilde is driving us mad, as always. I mean I love organizing too, you know, but for her it’s like a drug, but one that she’s roping us all into taking.”

“It’s… sweet?”

“Sure,” she says. “When you’re watching it from afar it is. When you’re in it it’s pretty terrifying.”

Isak snorts, and she grins, and he’s already feeling a little better, leaning back in his seat and letting go of the residue annoyance of this morning. He’s never actually had a sibling, but from what he understands it’s kind of like that: infuriating.

Although there are probably some things that are different, too.

“Anyway,” she says, now. “Do you want me to take mercy on you and study with you later?”

“Yeah," he says. "Really?” She nods. “You’re a life-saver, Sana.” 

She waves the statement off with her hand. 

“At the library, or do you want to come by? We could get pizzas from the halal place down the street? Although I just remembered, I think Even is having the guys over tonight. Some Oscars thing I don’t understand.”

“We could take their arrival as a sign to call it a day?” she suggests, and he nods because it’s a good idea. “Deal?”

“Yes,” he says. “Deal.”

*

Once they get back to the flat they do study, taking down notes and doing some case-work. They eat, too, going to get the pizza together, and it’s about seven o’clock in the evening before Even comes home from KB with both Mikael and Adam in tow.

“Sana,” he says, a happy sound, as he strides up to her to kiss her cheek hello, while one of the boys gives Isak’s shoulder a squeeze from behind. They’ve all been friends for ages at this point, so Isak is used to it now, but at first he was very startled by the way that they all constantly touch. “Good to see you. You doing well?”

“Mm-hm,” she says, as Isak reaches up to pat the hands of whoever is touching him.

“Great,” Even says, and then: “And you.” He turns to Isak now, and presses a kiss to his cheek, too, although it’s not something he usually does. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Isak says, embarrassed to realize that he’s probably blushing when Sana catches his eye and rolls her own. “Uh– How long will this thing that you’re doing last?”

“You mean how loud will it be?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a movie thing,” Adam says. “So I, for one, am planning to just fall asleep on your couch after Even has fed me.” They all grin. “But as far as I can tell from the rambling of these two crazed boys–” 

He touches Even’s and Mikael’s shoulders, and they both touch his hand back. 

“Then discussions will get very– What shall we say? Enthusiastic?”

“Great.”

“It is,” Even says. “You can join.”

“Sure.”

Sana is looking at him again, and when he turns back to glance in her direction, she’s looking at her laptop with a smirk.

“You know,” she says, a little later, when he’s walking her to the tram station. “We both know that it’s causing me great pain to actually have to say this out loud, but you do know that I’m here for you, right?” He snorts. “If you ever need to talk.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” he says. “Thanks.”

“So?” He shrugs. “Oh, my God, it’s like pulling out teeth.”

He’s trying, actually, he really is. You’d think coming out would do the trick, and it did do the trick a little, but it turns out that being left when you’re still just a child has somewhat lasting consequences.

It’s a tug and pull, all of the time, between _I don’t want to share anything with anyone_ and _this person alone will be the one to save me_ and most of the time he’s just trying to land somewhere in the middle, like, _I have friends and they want to listen._

It’s exhausting, to say the least. It’s a constantly running inner monologue that he can’t seem to shut off, and that sometimes keeps him up at night. But Sana wants to listen, that’s true. So:

“There’s not a lot to say,” he says, but has decided to go on, too. “It’s there, and I’m ignoring it. You know it wouldn’t be fair to him to tell him now. I can’t just swoop in and upend his life like that. Not again, anyway.”

“Are you sure that that’s what you’d be doing?”

“Yes.”

She shrugs, and it’s the kind of shrug she gives whenever she gives up on the conversation, which they both do a fair amount, because they’re both bad with the sharing thing, but it’s usually also temporary, too. A pause, maybe, more than a throwing in of the towel and a defeat.

“Come to the lecture tomorrow,” she says, both of them arrived at the tram stop now, and he’s grateful for the way she always knows when to change the subject, so he smiles a little before he plays along:

“It’s the 8am,” he pretends to complain, before she pretends to be annoyed about it:

“I know,” she says, and gives him a look. “That’s why I’m telling you to come.”

“Okay,” he says. “For you I'll come.”

"Mm-hm. See you tomorrow, Isabelle." 

"See you tomorrow," he says. 

When he comes back to the flat later, he finds Even and the boys sitting around the living room TV, all huddled together on the same couch. 

And then, because he can’t not, he toes his shoes off and leaves them by the door, throws his keys in the kitchen-counter key-bowl, and heads on over to join.

*

Generally, it’s good living in a flat with Even.

He’s good at cooking, so he often does that, and Isak, in turn, does most of their laundry. None of them are extremely clean, but none of them are extremely messy either, and it means that they can leave a hoodie on one of the couches without a problem, but that the trash is always taken out, too.

So: generally, it’s great. The only problem is that Isak is notoriously an introvert who sometimes needs people to leave him alone, and that Even is– well: not that.

The other problem is that the flat is pretty close to campus and that most of their friends have a key.

When Isak stumbles into the living room on Saturday, bleary-eyed and still a little tired, the flat is already filled with people. Even, instead of throwing them out, is apparently cooking breakfast for them.

“Great,” Isak says, dumping down on the couch where Magnus, Mahdi, Jonas and Eva are sitting. “Sure. Why don’t you just make yourself at home?”

“We are, thank you,” Magnus says, and Isak isn’t even awake enough to roll his eyes. “Even said we should.”

“Did you give him a choice?”

“No really,” Magnus says, as Jonas snorts. “But he did say it.”

“Awesome.”

“Lighten up, it’s a great day. Even is making eggs. None of us were hangover enough to throw up in your bathroom.”

“Wonderful, thanks. Even is making eggs?”

“I knew something in there would make you happy.” Isak shakes his head, a little exasperated. “He’s even making Eggos for eleven over here–”

“Hey!” Mahdi says.

“Well not Eggos, since other brands of frozen waffles do exist, but you get what I mean.”

“Why am I eleven?” Mahdi asks, and Magnus turns to him and holds his fingers up, as he counts on them.

“You like waffles. You don’t have hair. You would fight people for us.”

“That’s almost sweet.”

“Thanks, sometimes I’m nice.”

“It’s so early to be listening to this,” Isak says, before he gets off the couch, pats Mahdi’s shoulder as he walks past him, which is something that he picked up from Even and his boys, and heads towards the kitchen. “I’m going to check the progress of the food.”

He doesn’t really escape them, since the flat is pretty open plan except for the rooms, but he does get far enough away to stop hearing to them. In the kitchen, then, he indeed does find Even making eggs and waffles, in a hoodie and with hair still messy from sleep.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi. How annoyed are you on a scale from one to ten that the flat is crowded?”

“Ten,” Isak says.

“Okay, and now the truth?”

“Three,” Isak says, smiling back when Even turns to grin at him. Before he can say anything else, Eva has entered the kitchen area, too, looking like a woman with a goal on her mind.

“Isak,” she says, and her tone makes Isak widen his eyes in Even’s direction, before he turns around to look at her.

“This can’t be good.”

“I need your help.”

So at least he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Listen: Mine and Jonas’s anniversary is coming up. Different date from last time, the second time around one.” Isak nods. “I have a plan, but I want to surprise him, so I need you to help me get him there in a discreet sort of way.” And nods again. “Yeah? Could you do that?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Only a tiny, tiny one.”

“Okay,” Isak says. “Fine. I don’t have a ton of time, but I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Eva says. “You’re a life-saver, you know. You’re great. Top of the world, best dude ever.”

“I already said yes.”

“So you can’t back out.” Eva is backing out of the kitchen, now. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” Isak says, instead of saying it back, but he knows she knows what it means. Instead of complaining she salutes the both of them, and a moment later she’s gone.

“You’re such a push-over,” Even says, so Isak points to the food that he’s making, and Even shrugs. “Well, I own it. Twitter bio: Even, twenty-two, I’m a pushover.”

Isak rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he says, and Even laughs. Isak watches it for a moment, smiling, too. “You don’t even have a twitter.”

“But if I did, Isak, if I did.”

“Right.”

Instead of going back to the others, and even though the eggs are simple and it’s not like he can help, he jumps onto one of the empty kitchen counters, grabbing one of the warmed-up waffles from the toaster, and breaks off a bite as he watches Even working.

They’re quiet, and it’s comfortable, and one of the reasons they live together is that that’s something they can be together and do.

“Do you ever get a little jealous of them?” Even asks then, and he keeps his back turned while he says it, which means that he’s trying to say something that matters or something, at least, that he’s worrying about. “How they’re exes who figured it out?”

Ah.

There’s not a lot of things between them that will halt them in their tracks and make them quiet, but this is about the biggest one of them.

“As opposed to us, or what?” he asks, and hears himself how his voice has changed, and wishes that Even would have stayed quiet, too. It’s too weird to talk about still, and it probably won’t ever stop being so. “I thought we were doing okay?”

“We are.”

“Then–”

“Forget it, sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Even pulls the pan off the heat, and Isak thinks that maybe he’ll walk out of the kitchen, now, like he sometimes does to avoid conversations, but instead he turns around. It looks like it requires a great effort, but he does it, still. Isak has to give him points for that.

“Sorry,” he repeats, meeting Isak’s eye now. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Okay.”

“Alright,” Even says.

“Are we okay?” 

Isak has to ask. He has to, because it’s hard sometimes, and he doesn’t like talking, but he's vowed to himself to never let anything fester between them; to work their problems out if it’s the last thing he does.

“Yes,” Even says.

“Okay. And now the truth?”

They didn’t have that while they were dating. It was something they made up afterwards, while they were clawing their way back to being friends, and trying and trying and trying, determined to work it out so they could stay in each other’s lives.

Maybe it’s because friendship has always felt less fragile than romance, that it feels like something they can do, now. Maybe it’s because worst case scenario already happened, and they haven’t got much else to fear.

Regardless Even nods this time, and does it while meeting his eye.

“We’re okay,” he says. “I promise.”

*

It’s working for them.

In some sense of the word, at least, it’s working for them. They’re exes, sure, but they’re friends first, and it’s an active choice and sometimes a battle, but most of the time it’s quite easy. Most of the time it really flows. They hang out together, they support each other, sometimes they touch, like with hugging and the like, and it’s fine. It really is fine.

There is, of course, Isak’s feelings, but he’s thinking it’s probably normal that they’re there. He'd never been in love before Even. Maybe you never really fall out of that. But he can ignore it, and be a functioning friend.

He can even ignore the jealousy, because he can’t ignore that he feels it, but he can realize that it’s none of his business, and it’s isn’t. It really, really isn’t.

So it’s all fine, that’s the gist of it. They’re all functioning really well.

Then Sonja and Even break up.

*

Well.

Actually, it’s not so much that Sonja and Even break up. It’s more that Sonja breaks up with Even.

The turnaround on the whole thing is incredibly quick. One afternoon Even texts him that him and Sonja just broke up, and that same evening Isak is staying home to let her in when she comes over to get her stuff.

It’s difficult to know what to say to her, when he opens the door to her standing in the staircase, so all he does is give her a nod and move aside. She fetches her own things in Even’s room, and he waits at the kitchen island while she does it, emptying the dishwasher for something to do.

“So,” she says, suddenly in the room, and he jumps, which she’s smiling about when he turns around. “I’m done.”

“Okay. Uh–” 

They’re not friends. They’re definitely not friends, but she has been in Even’s life, and therefore in his, for a far shot over a year, and he’s confused by how quickly it happened. How easy it seems to be for her to let him go. 

“What happened? I mean– I just thought you were doing well?”

She raises her brows at him, and he can see how this might be kind of weird.

“Do you need a break-up speech, too?” she asks. “I never knew you cared that much.” He groans. “I’m kidding.”

“I know.”

“Hm.” She shrugs. Then: “It was never going to seriously be us, that’s all that happened. Nothing bad, no hard feelings, at least not from my end.”

Isak isn't sure that that's something Even would agree with, but that feels inapporpiate to tell her, so he doesn't. Instead, he just nods. 

“Okay.”

“Anyway–” She points to the front door. “I should–”

“Yes.” Isak nods, and when she walks to the door, he follows. "Bye, then."

"Bye, Isak." 

When she leaves, he's the one to close the door.

Even hasn’t told him how many people he’s already told about it, but Isak figures that he would probably appreciate some company that that company maybe shouldn’t be Isak alone, figuring their history and everything. So:

He texts Mikael.

He keeps it detail-free, too, because it’s not like it’s his story to tell, but luckily Mikael already knows, and agrees to spend the evening at the flat.

When Even comes home it’s with Mikael already in tow, then, and he looks fine, or at least he’s good at playing it off like it’s nothing, which Isak figures he’s probably doing, and is going to let him do, too.

He’s still going to ask, though. He just waits until they’re alone again, brushing their teeth in the bathroom together.

“Are you okay?” he asks then, watching Even looking tired and wishing he could do something about it.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Isak says, but he doesn’t seem okay, so: “And now the truth?”

Even shrugs and Isak lets him, but he hates the fragility of this; hates the tension that always keeps on coming back around, sitting there between them like an old ghost, as they try, desperately, desperately, desperately, to not dig into it too hard. It feels like if they did, something would probably break and ooze out and ruin them.

“I’m sad,” Even says, then, honoring the question demanding the truth. “And it sucks. And everything she said was true.

“What did she say?” Isak asks, although he’s not sure if he’s allowed. It would just feel strange not to.

“I can’t tell you,” Even says, though, and Isak shrugs to accept that.

“Okay,” he says. “But you’ll be fine?”

“Yes.” Even nods. “I’ll be fine.”

*

A week or so later they’re standing on campus in the freezing cold, them and the boys, handing out fliers for the uni filmclub event that Friday that Even usually hosts and Isak always comes to when he does.

“So are we going out on Friday after this thing?” Jonas asks. “We could go to a bar unless someone has a party? I bought a nice shirt and it’s been too long.”

“You mean the one with the pattern?” Isak asks, because he was out with Jonas when he bought that one, and Jonas nods. “We can’t go to a gay bar then, you’ll get hit on so hard.”

“Then we should go to a gay bar,” Magnus says. “That would be hilarious. Some humor for the heartbroken over here.” He gestures to Even, who shakes his head with a smile. “An opportunity to pick up a nice boy for the heartbroken, too, or maybe for Lonely Wolf Isak.”

Isak rolls his eyes, but the rest of them laugh.

“I’m busy,” he says.

“No, no, no.” Jonas holds up a palm to stop him. “Let the rest of us finish that for you. You’re busy, that’s the first point.” He holds one finger up. “You’re picky, that’s the second, followed by a jibe at all of us, mostly Mags, for not following suit.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s true,” Even chimes in, grinning now, and at least there’s the fact that he’s grinning now. “And then the bow to wrap it all up: _My degree is the busiest one._ ”

“It is,” Isak says. “I have more seminars than the rest of you.”

 _”I have more seminars than the rest of you,_ ” Jonas copies, in an exaggerated voice. 

”Listen, when was the last time a new person said something to you that you thought was actually interesting, and you weren’t being sarcastic about it?”

“Yesterday.” 

Isak rolls his eyes.

”You’re too easy,” he says, and Even and the rest of them laugh. 

“Okay,” Mahdi says then. “Enough of your whining. The important question is whether or not we’ll go somewhere where we can get a cheap beer?”

“Let’s,” Even says. “I have a place.”

*

A few days later they’re in a crowded hipster bar of a place, that’s just up Even’s and Jonas’s alley and does, for some miraculous reason, actually have normal, regular beers that are cheap, too.

They’re sitting in the corner of the place, which means that they’re all sitting close, and that Isak finds himself pressed tightly up against Even’s warm, comfortable side.

He had a few beers at the film club because he’s found that when it’s not Even’s or Mikael’s, then short films are really much more fun to watch while you’re a little bit tipsy. Since then, though, he’s only been drinking water, and at this point he’s pretty much sobered up.

Only that's disregarding the effect that being pressed close to Even in a crowded room might have on him.

A while into the night they play a game of Liar’s Dice, and Isak sitting next to Even means that Even’s the one tasked with calling his bluffs.

That also means that Even is looking at him. A lot.

Which is kind of fucking hot.

He’s used to finding Even attractive. He _is_ attractive, objectively so, if that is even a thing, and they did used to date, too. It's only natural, then, that Isak has a personal attraction to him, and that his body remembers what it was like to be with him.

Still. This is quite a lot more than it usually is.

“Eight sixes,” he says, passing the turn over to Even.

“Liar.”

Goddammit.

He lifts his cup with the rest of them, and of course, of course, there are only seven, because he doesn’t have one and Even is the last in the circle. And Even is teasing him. He’s definitely, fucking teasing him.

“Eh?” he says, nudging Isak with his shoulder, and he looks delighted, at least, but right now that’s driving Isak mad, too. “You can’t lie to me, you know that. It’s my expertise to call your bluffs.”

“I wasn’t bluffing, it was a genuine guess.” Lie, he was bluffing. “You could have had a six.”

“Liar.”

It’s infuriating.

It’s hot, and it’s fucking infuriating.

“Your turn.”

They all shake their cups with the dice in them and shake them, before they slam them onto the table, their beers and Even’s and his shared water pattering against the edge of their glasses with it. Isak lifts his cup.

“Two twos.”

Even watches him. Gaze shifting between Isak’s eyes, because that’s how close they’re sitting, before he glances down to Isak’s lips, too, too quick for anyone but them to notice, but obvious enough that it sends a thrill of electricity through Isak’s veins.

He wants. It’s dumb, and he shouldn’t, but he really, really does.

“Why would I lie about that?” he says, to make Even stop looking at him, and thankfully Even does. Still, when he drags his gaze away he does it slowly.

“Four twos,” he says, and underneath the table their knees touch.

The cold air that they’re hit with, on their walk home, should have put a stop to everything that Isak is feeling. It doesn’t.

Instead he’s nearly delirious with desire by the time Even unlocks the door for them, breathless and with a heart that’s beating a little too fast and warm all over, like it’s coming from his bones, in that aching way but also comfortable way.

He goes to the kitchen, looking for water, but Even does, too, and there’s not a lot of space. There’s really not a lot of space, especially as they meet in front of the sink, both pouring water into their glasses at the same time, their knuckles nearly touching, and Isak is–

Fuck.

When he turns around Even is _right there_ , and now they’re standing in a way that makes it seem like Even has crowded him up against the sink, and their chests are nearly touching, and Even is breathing heavily, too. 

And his pupils are blown. Isak looks at them, and then to his lips – _fuck_ – and then back to them, and Even is smiling now, barely smiling, really only his gaze softening a bit, and–

He shifts, and now he really is crowding Isak up against the counter, his face so close his breath ghosts over Isak’s skin, and–

He tilts his head, inching in closer but making it a question, too, and Isak realizes that nothing will happen if he doesn’t nod.

It’s a bad idea, but he wants to, but it’s a bad idea, but he wants to, but it’s a bad idea, but he wants to, he wants to, he wants to, he wants to, he–

Nods.

And Even kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo! you! yes, you! 
> 
> how are you feeling about an actual multichapter thing from my end? hopefully good. tell me in the comments? you know i love it when you do


	2. Friends with benefits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we're back! and fulfilling one of the tags
> 
> hope you've had a great weekend! also hope you enjoy this

Oh, no.

He opens his eyes, Even's bed, sun shining in through Even's blinds, and–

Oh, no.

The evidence of last night is all over the room, in the clothes scattered all over the floor, and in him, naked in Even's bed, and in Even, oh God, Even, who's lying on his side faced in Isak's direction, with his duvet pulled all the way up under his chin like he always does, because he always gets cold when he sleeps, and shit–

What did they do?

Well. It's not so much a question of what they did, because Isak remembers. Remembers it very vividly, too, how it felt to be with Even again, to kiss him and touch him and be touched by him, to have Even's thumbs digging into his thighs, and Even's lips on his neck beneath his ear, to say _please_ , and _yes_ , and _just like that_ , and–

Fuck. What is he going to do now?

What is he going to do, now that Even is beginning to stir?

In the end he doesn't do anything. He just watches it as Even groans and burrows himself further into his pillow, always a little reluctant to wake up, before he sighs, too, and opens his eyes. Theirs meet.

"Hi."

"Hi," Even says.

Isak presses his lips together to avoid blurting out all the things that he's freaking out about, and Even watches him with a hesitant, nervous expression before he starts smiling instead, and Isak's lips are suddenly pressed together to keep him from laughing.

"Well," Even says. "We did that."

"Shut up." Isak tugs his pillow out from under his cheek so he can hit Even over the head with it, which makes Even chuckle. "Even. What are we doing?"

"Right now?" Even says. "Nothing. Yesterday–?"

"Shut up."

They both laugh, this time, and Even raises his arms to shield his face from Isak's pillow, before he reaches out to pull it out of his grasp instead. When Isak lets go of it he hugs it to his chest, and Isak lies down on the mattress, on his side, facing Even. 

Then hides his face behind his palms, as he groans into them.

"It's okay," Even says. "Stop freaking out. It was good." It was. "We could do it again."

What?

Isak removes his hands to stare at him.

"Even," he says. "What are you talking about?"

"It was fun, right? Friends have sex all the time."

Right. 

Friends. That's great.

Before Isak can say anything, the key turns in their front door lock.

"Shit," Even says, already getting out of bed to pull his clothes back on, and Isak is a little bit thankful for the distance, because as it's going right now he couldn't promise that he wouldn't end up in Even's bed again. Well. With Even on top of him in the bed again. "That's Mikael. We're re-shooting some stuff. Why did we give people spare keys?"

"You tell me, it was your idea."

Even stops in his tracks, t-shirt in his hand as he wears only boxers, to give Isak a look.

"Really?" he says. "Right now?"

Isak doesn't say anything, because he's too busy looking at how good Even is looking right now, which is so stupid, it's so stupid–

Someone knocks on Even's bedroom door.

"Dude, you said you'd be up early," Mikael says, so it is him, then. "I brought coffee, can I come in?"

Even's eyes widen a little, and he hurries to put his t-shirt on.

"Hold on a second, I'm changing."

"You just woke up? You're so lazy."

"That's me," Even says, jumping into his jeans, too, before he throws Isak his clothes as well, which Isak gets out of bed to pull on. After, he waves Isak over, so they can whisper to each other without being heard.

"We could tell him?" he says, but Isak shakes his head. "Okay, then wait here while I get him out, ten minutes tops I think."

"Okay."

"And Isak?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't freak out. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright," Even says, and glances in the mirror to fix his hair, which makes Isak's stomach clench a little because he did that, he ruined his hair like that, it was his hands. Because they actually had sex last night, and Even wants to do it again, and Isak kind of wants to, too. "See you later. Don't freak out."

Before Isak can say anything, Even has leaned in to kiss his cheek, and before Isak can react to that, the door has closed behind him.

He's a whirlwind. 

So it's just like old times, then.

*

A few hours later he’s sitting at the kitchen island, with his forehead to the stone counter, as Eva sits across from him and laughs.

“Shut up,” he says.

“No, it’s great. I’m used to being the one who makes terrible decisions in their love life, but now that I’ve graduated onto a stable relationship for the second time, it’s your turn.”

“I never should have told you anything,” Isak says, lifting his head from the counter to look at her, but she just laughs again. “You can't tell anyone else, okay?”

“I know,” Eva says. “Isak. Stop freaking out, you’ll be okay. Jonas and I did this, too, and that worked out fine, right?”

“You and Jonas did this, too, and never talked about it but were magically on the same page, and then he asked you for nachos and you were dating again.”

“That’s a simplification,” Eva says. “But yes. What’s your point?”

“You and Jonas are so chill, together and as people. Even and I are complicated. You always tease me for thinking too much. Even can have hour-long debates in his own head in seconds, and jumps to conclusions like mad. Him and Sonja just broke up. It’s a mess, Eva, you know it is.”

“Everyone’s a mess,” Eva says. “You’ll be fine, right? The two of you always figure it out.”

That’s true, of course, but it’s also on determination alone; on the two of them deciding to stay in each other’s lives and putting work into it, even though sometimes it seems to require a lot, especially when old feelings get involved.

Eva, though. If anything Eva is a reminder to Isak that he _can_ fuck up, and has fucked up, but that sometimes people are generous enough to allow him to try to make it better again

Right now he’s thinking through the worst-case scenario: it goes wrong, and then Even leaves, and then Isak loses him from his life completely, and he knows that he’s being irrational because they were laughing this morning and because they made it through things that were much worse, but he only succeeds in being rational a little bit.

It’s difficult. It’s fucking difficult. Love is way too complex, really. It scares the living shit out of him.

He sighs again, and puts his cheek on the counter, this time. Eva reaches out to rub his upper back.

“Calm down,” she says. “You do think too much. Do I need to call Jonas to get him take you out and smoke with you?”

“No,” Isak says, but he’s smiling, now, and feeling a little bit better. Draws in a breath, then exhales it again. “It’s fine.”

“Okay. Good.” Eva squeezes his shoulder, now. “Was it good at least? Can you tell me that?”

Isak looks at her, and rolls his eyes.

“Of course it was good,” he says, and she snorts. “It was Even. It had to be.”

*

Isak worries. And he worries, and he worries, and he worries.

Then Even texts him. And suddenly he’s worrying a lot less.

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
i’m going to text you a running count of every single time mikael asks me some variation of “are you okay?” or “is something wrong?” or “are you manic?” or “why are you so distracted today?”  
just kidding, i’m not, because it’s a constant running monologue  
he’s monologuing, isak  
are you okay?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
you mean besides my panicking?  
yes, i’m good

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
don’t panic  
i'm sorry if it freaked you out that i said that we could do it again  
i only want to do things you want to do

 **Isak Valtersen**  
i know

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
so?

 **Isak Valtersen**  
we should talk, shouldn’t we?

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
i'll be home in about an hour or so  
no mikael in tow

 **Isak Valtersen**  
okay

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
and stop freaking out

 **Isak Valtersen**  
shut up

 **Even Bech Næsheim**  
there's the boy i know and love  
see you later

 **Isak Valtersen**  
okay

It’s stupid. He’s fully aware that it’s stupid, but as he waits for Even to come back home, he can’t stop thinking about it, either, and can’t stop thinking about how apparently Even wants to do it again.

Now, he should be a responsible person. He’s twenty, and it’s about time, and he should know how to talk to Even before he falls back into his bed. But on the other hand, if they talk first thing, then they might decide not to do it again. If Isak forgets responsibility for just a second or so, however–

Then they could be having sex again.

He said he was trying to make better decisions. He never said he was good at it.

“Hey,” Even says, when he walks through their front door not long after, pulling his gloves off with his teeth while he toes out of his shoes and puts his filming equipment down so it’s leaning against the wall, and he’s just so goddamn pretty. Cheeks flushes from the cold as he smiles to himself, easily, like today was a good day, and Isak–

Isak just wants to kiss him.

“Why am I doing this with Mikael again, when his wishes are so fucking precise that they’re almost impossible to get down–”

“Even.”

“Yes?”

Isak is standing in front of him, now, because the moment Even came in, he came over, and now they’re barely inches apart, while Even is still wearing his jacket and everything.

“You still want to do it again?” he asks, and Even bites his lip around his smile.

“I thought we were going to talk?” he says, but it’s teasing, and as he says it he pulls his own jacket off, and throws it to the floor. “Or no? Because as I remember, you were very adamant–”

Isak kisses him.

It’s one long, firm press, Isak cupping Even’s cheek to pull him into it, and as he does Even’s lips lift into a smile against it as he chuckles, too, through his nose. By the time Isak tries to pull away, Even is cupping his cheeks back, and instead of letting Isak go, Even pulls him in closer and kisses him back, with lips parted and tongue this time.

Isak stumbles into him, so they stumble back against the front door, chuckling through their noses as they keep kissing, touching only each other’s cheeks before Isak reaches down to help him get his zip-up hoodie off, pushing it off his shoulders.

Letting go of his cheeks briefly, Even helps him get it off his wrists, before he cups them again and starts walking them towards his bedroom.

“Fuck, I hoped we’d be doing this again,” he says, as the bedroom door closes behind them and he presses Isak up against it, kissing him still. Isak melts into it, smiling with his arms around Even’s neck, when Even pulls back to kiss down his, just below his ear where Isak really likes it. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“Really?”

“Hm.” Even pulls back to pull his shirt off his head, so Isak does the same to his own. “Really.”

Even is just too good at this, that’s the problem. It’s like sex comes naturally to him, because he’s so fucking sensual about it, and so fucking at ease about everything, even the parts that are a bit awkward.

It helps that he knows Isak’s body, too, that they don’t have to do the get-to-knowing-bit, and that Isak trusts him enough to let go. It helps that Isak finds him fucking hot, and that Even seems to love the whole experience, not just the end part of it, so he takes his time with the whole thing.

“What should we do then?” Even asks, when they’re on his bed, making out, cheeks flushes and hair a mess. “What do you want?”

And Isak–

Well, fuck: If they’re going to do it, they might as well do it.

“You have stuff?” he asks, and they didn’t do this last night, but he wants to, now, he really, really wants to.

“Really?” Isak nods. “Yes, I do.”

Instead of saying anything, Isak kisses him, and makes sure to make it suggestive enough that Even will understand. Then:

”Please?”

”You’re killing me.”

”In a good way, I hope.”

Instead of replying Even gestures down himself, and Isak smiles into their next kiss.

He hasn’t done this in ages. Actually, he hasn’t done this since the two of them last did it. He has tried sometimes, when he’s hooked up with people, but he’s always ended up changing his mind. It’s too vulnerable for a one-night stand, and he hasn’t really had anything else, since.

He forgot what it’s like to be doing this with someone else. What it's like to watch Even's face like this, and to pull him in and kiss him, and he forgot how good it feels, too, and how fucking intimate it is. He forgot how intense it feels, and how many emotions you spend on it.

It’s addictive. Being with Even is addictive. So when they're done and Even is sleeping next him, under the duvet that Isak covered him with, he knows that he wants to do it again.

Screw it being a bad idea. As long as he doesn’t hurt Even, or break the two of them apart, then he can deal with the fallout of that later. He’s weighed it up on the scale. Doing this for a while is worth the possible subsequent heartache, as long as it’s only for him. And it seems like it only will be for him. Like Even is over him at this point.

Isak watches Even sleeping for a bit, his calm expression, the strand of hair that falls into his face, the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, before he gets out of bed, finds his boxers, and pulls them.

In the kitchen, then, he makes them two cups of tea, and when he comes back into Even’s room with both of them in hand, Even is awake again.

“Hi,” they say to each other, and smile, before Isak joins him on the bed, cross-legged now, and hands one of the cups over to him. Even sits up, duvet pooling around his hips and his chest out, and takes the cup.

“Thanks,” he says.

“So...”

“So?” Even asks. “I’m sure you’ve had a lot of thoughts.” Isak rolls his eyes, and Even smiles at that, too. “So what are they, then?”

“Let's do it," Isak says. "Friends with benefits, whatever it's called. I want to."

Even raises his brows, and smiles slowly around the rim of his cup.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "You think we'll manage?"

Isak shrugs.

"I think," he says, "that at least it doesn't hurt to try."

*

A week or so later he’s rushing in the lecture hall, forty-five minutes late, with wet hair from the shower that he didn’t at all have time enough to take, but had to take anyway, because of what him and Even had been doing.

“Sorry,” he says, hurrying in during the lecture break and dumping himself down besides Sana. “Fuck, I had to run to get here on time.”

“And yet you didn’t,” Sana says. “Like, at all.”

Instead of answering Isak leans his head against the back of his chair, looking at her as he tries to catch his breath. Which is difficult, really, seeing as he’s hardly stopped panting since Even kisses him over breakfast this morning.

“Your shirt is on inside out, by the way.”

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Isak chuckles to himself. God. This is fucking ridiculous.

It continues exactly like that for a while, in a whirlwind of desire, that Isak has never really experienced before. Next day, and Even is kissing him as soon as he walks through the door. Next day, and they shower together in the morning and are very nearly late again.

Next day, and the breath goes out of him as Even, while kissing him, pushes him up against the bathroom stall wall, kicking the door of it closed behind them.

“I have to help Eva with the Jonas anniversary thing,” Isak says, in-between Even’s kisses, as Even’s thigh slips between both of his and presses close. “ _Fuck_ , Even. I barely have ten minutes. We have to be quick.”

Even leans out of their grasp, and grins when Isak, already delirious with wanting him, chases after his lips. Then, still meeting Isak’s eyes, he drops to his goddamn knees.

Isak hits the back of his head against the stall, and closes his eyes as his fingers intertwine with Even’s hair.

“Quick enough?” Even asks.

“Please.”

“I’m here,” he says, exactly eleven minutes later, rushing up to Eva who’s waiting for him at the tram-stop in front of campus. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m sorry, I’m here.”

“You,” she says, giving him a once-over and shaking her head, and then she beckons him closer with a wave of her hand.

He’s still breathing heavily when he goes, with knees not yet done being weak, and it’s seems like he’s always breathless these days. When he’s within range Eva reaches out to fix his shirt, smoothing out some wrinkles in it, before she reaches up to pat his hair down and fix it, too.

“Thanks,” he says.

“You’re welcome, lover-boy.”

“Shut up.”

Next day, and Isak is getting ready to go the gym with Mikael and them, gathering up his towel and his water bottle, when Even corners him in the kitchen and kisses him, and Isak thinks that other forms of exercise might do as well. But then:

“When you come home later,” Even says, kissing Isak’s neck, now, exactly how he likes it. “I’ll shower with you and take you to bed.”

“Why do later what you can do now?”

“Because...” 

Even is touching his chest now, under his shirt, thumbing his nipple and making his knees nearly buckle under as he arches into it, trying to make their hips connect, and Even–

Stops and pulls away.

“It’s more fun this way,” he says, backing away with a wink as Isak gapes after him.

“Not fair,” he calls after him. “Let’s do it now.”

“Tonight.”

“Now.”

“Tonight.”

“Now.”

“No.” Giggling, Even shakes his head. “Tonight, come on. It’ll be fun.”

It is.

It is fun, that’s the thing. It’s so much fun, and Isak is enjoying it, and they’re having a really good time.

Apparently he’s not the only one who thinks that, and it’s not only Even who agrees, either. Apparently the rest of the boys agree, too, which Isak finds out one Thursday evening where they’re all hanging out in the flat, playing FIFA, sprawled across one of the couches as Even lies on the other one, laptop open, watching a movie for his class with the headphones in. Then:

“Can I get your opinion on this hoodie?” Mahdi asks him, when it’s the other two boys turn to play. “Because it’s new but I don’t know if yellow is, like, too much?”

“I like it,” Isak says, reaching out instinctively to fix it a little, because that’s something he’s picked up from Even’s friends, too. “Suits your skin.”

“Thanks.” Isak nods. “You look really good, by the way. Like, happy.”

“That’s true,” Magnus says, halfway distracted by the game but apparently not enough to not hear them. “I noticed that as well. Are you pregnant or something?”

“Yes,” Isak says. “That’s exactly what I am.” Actually he’s just having regular sex, which he already knew would do wonders to his mood, oxytocin and all of that, but it’s still a little amusing to have it confirmed like this. “How did you guess?”

“I’m a genius detective.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Its great, though,” Jonas says, and at this point Isak notices that Even’s gaze has turned to them instead of the movie. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks.”

“Has anything happened? Any good news?”

“Uh–” Please be a good liar, this time. “No, nothing. I guess things are just good right now.”

“Okay,” Jonas says. “Cool.”

“Oh, and by the way,” Magnus says. “Mahdi, that hoodie looks fucking great on you. Isak is right, it suits your skin.”

“Thanks,” Mahdi says, and Isak turns his attention from them and towards Even, who, just like he predicted, is looking at him. When their eyes meet he smiles and then, just before he goes back to his laptop, he raises his brows and winks.

Feeling an inexplicable flush rise in his cheeks, Isak looks down to his hands in his lap and bites his lip to keep his smile from growing too big.

Later, Even’s boys do the same thing, while Isak is training in the gym with them, where they help each other with the bench-press.

“Hey, Isak?” Mikael says, while Isak stands off to the side for a second, taking a swig of water from his bottle. “You’ve noticed Even seems very happy, right?”

Isak almost chokes on his water, and tries to pass it off as a cough.

“Uh, sure,” he says, clearing his throat again. “Yeah, why?”

“Okay.” Mikael’s brows furrow, just a little. “But you think he’s just happy, right? Like it seems like regular happiness, but…” 

Instead of going on, he shrugs. Isak understands though. He’s worried. So he reaches out to squeeze his shoulder.

“I think he’s fine, Mik,” he says. “You know I’d tell you if anything seemed off. And he probably would, too.”

“Yeah, I know.” Mikael nods. “Just wanted to get your opinion, I guess. It’s nice that he’s happy though, right?”

“Yeah,” Isak says, and now he’s smiling. “It is.”

Lastly, then, it’s Sana, too, while they sit in the library one late night, drinking coffee to stay awake even though it makes Isak more anxious than he already is, and makes him very jittery, too. He’ll never fall asleep tonight, he can already tell; his brain will be running for hours instead.

On top of this assignment it’s also Even’s birthday soon, and Isak is trying to plan a party for him without letting him know about it. On top of that there's the worrying about what the two of them are doing, that hasn't really stopped. 

There’s just a lot on his plate right now.

“You’re stressed,” Sana says. “I mean you’ve looked drugged out on bliss for a while, so maybe a little stress is overdue, but this is a lot.” 

He nods from where he’s sitting, hunched over his laptop and this assignment that needs to be done tomorrow at noon and still isn’t anywhere close to finished.

“We should take a break.”

“I’m busy,” he says, and it comes out sounding much harsher than he expected. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs, and he sighs, resting his forehead in his palm for a second, trying to get out of that tense mood that sometimes makes him snap. “Did I tell you I talked more to Yousef?”

 _Oh, Sana_ , he thinks. _You’re a life-saver_.

“No?” he says. “You didn’t. Let’s hear it, what happened?”

“Well,” she says. “He’s not going to become religious again. And I’m obviously not going to stop.” He nods. “So it’s not a difference that we can do anything about. That means the question is if we can live with it.”

“And can you?” Isak asks, and Sana shrugs.

“We have the same core values,” she says. “And he said this thing that–“ She adjusts a little, changes her voice. “It’s not like it’s one big choice, and then it’s over and unchangeable. It’s a lot of little choices, all of the time, and if we’re talking to each other then we can make sure that it keeps being something that works for us.”

Isak smiles.

“That’s actually really nice,” he says, and means it, and she nods. “Although I can’t believe you’ll have to talk of your emotions.” And then laughs. “Does he even know you?”

“Shut up. It’s different with him.”

“Is it, really?”

She shrugs, again, and this time it even looks a little shy. On _her_. Sana is feeling shy.

Isak grins.

“Wow,” he says. “You really like him, huh?”

“Yes.” She says it like she’s daring him to say anything about it, and that makes him smile, too. “Anyway, don’t get too cocky. I just told you this to calm you down.”

“I am calmer now,” Isak says, and it’s true, too. “It worked.”

“Good. Then get back to work, Isabelle.”

He does.

*

He pulls an all-nighter on the assignment.

He has to, because it’s still not done by the time they leave the library at midnight, and it can’t not be done. So he makes his way home on the tram, and then dumps himself down on the couch with whatever snacks they have on hand, and tries to keep writing.

At around 3am the door to Even’s room opens, and a stripe of light exists with him, spilling over the floorboards of the living room as Even yawns into his fist before his eyes seem to catch on the lump that is Isak, sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “Writing?”

“Yeah.” Isak nods. “Trying to, anyway.”

“You stuck?”

This time, Isak shakes his head.

“No,” he says, and yawns, too, a moment before Even copies and they both snort about it. “I’m just really tired. I’m debating taking a nap but I also just need to get this finished and if I sleep now I might not wake up.”

“I’ll wake you up,” Even says. “You only need to just fall asleep too, five minutes or something will do. It’ll be much easier afterwards.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, yeah. You know back when I had the tired side-effect of the meds?” Isak nods. “I got by on it. I even did it at my library desk.”

Shaking his head, Isak snorts.

“Really?” he says, and Even nods. “That must have looked great.”

“I’m sure it was both attractive and endearing,” Even says. “Give me a minute and then I’ll come in and stay around to wake you. How much do you want? Ten minutes?”

“Uh,” Isak says, restructuring his plans for the night in his head before he nods. “Yeah. Ten minutes. Thank you.”

Even waves his hand, as if to wave that away.

“It’s fine,” he says. “It’s a little bit my fault either way, isn’t it?” 

When Isak raises his brows in question, Even smiles, a cheeky thing that would be invigorating normally, but is just endearing now, when it’s joined by his cheeks being pink from sleep and his eyes being puffy, too. 

“Because I’m so sexy it’s distracting you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Isak says, but can’t quite help but to smile when Even laughs. It’s his favourite kind of Even laugh: the proud one, filled with delight over making someone else smile. It’s the kind that always makes Isak’s whole chest ache for him. “But if you really want to relieve me of any responsibility for my own actions, then go ahead.”

“My favourite pass-time.”

“Okay, smart-arse.” Even laughs again. “Go do your thing. I’ll be waiting.”

When Even leaves he does it walking backwards, keeping eye-contact with Isak before he winks and turns around. When Isak goes back to his laptop, he’s biting his lip to contain his smile.

The nap that it-feels-almost-cruel-to-wake-you-up-when-you-look-so-peaceful-Even helps him wake up from works miraculously, and after it the writing happens much faster than it has all night.

For some reason Even stays in the living room, lying with his head at the other end of the couch that they’re sharing, letting Isak ask him about which sentence structures he likes the best for a while before, eventually, his eyes drop closed and he falls asleep. When Isak sees he smiles at that, too, this warm fondness that he feels for Even sometimes blooming throughout his chest, before he reaches behind him for a blanket and covers Even with him.

He always does get so cold.

It’s 6am before he’s done, but that’s still so much earlier than he thought it would be, and the relief of it sings through him. Fuck that it’s not his best work. He’ll survive with a five this once.

After sending the assignment off and turning his laptop off, he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and when he comes back it seems the sound of it has awoken Even. At least he stirs and mumbles something that Isak can’t hear.

“What?”

“You done?”

“Yeah,” Isak says, and Even groans and turns from his side to his stomach, burying himself further into the couch cushions but in the way he always does before he gets up, burrowing closer before he lets go. “Do you need help, or?”

“Mm,” Even confirms, throwing his arm out, and maybe Isak shouldn’t indulge his whining, but he does. Of course he does. So he grabs Even’s hand and pulls him up. “Thanks.”

After he’s helped him off the couch, he helps Even to his bedroom, too, and he can tell that Even will pull him into it before he even does it. And then when he does it, he goes.

Friends sleep together sometimes. It’s no big deal.

For now.

*

The next time they have sex, however, it’s slow, and Isak is the one with his back to the mattress, as Even intertwines their fingers above his head and leans down to kiss him.

Flash cut a little forward in time, and they’re chest to chest instead, Isak’s hands buried deep in Even’s hair and Even’s hands buried deep in his, too, as they breathe against each others lips more than kiss, now, because that’s really all they can do at this point.

Flash cut even further, and Isak is throwing his head back while Even is kissing his neck the way he likes, and flash cut even further and they’re lying together panting as they’re coming down, while Even brushes the hair out of his face, and then:

Leans down, very slowly, and brings their foreheads and then their noses together.

It’s the first time he’s done it since they were dating. It used to be their thing.

After he’s done it Even kisses him again, very, very softly, with a thumb dragging across his cheek, and then he lies down besides him, and holds him for a bit. Isak just tries to breathe against the lump that’s forming in his throat.

While Even goes to the bathroom, eventually, in a search for a wet flannel, Isak hides his face in his palms and tries very, very hard not to cry.

So it just caught up with him. Why this was a terrible, terrible idea.

He misses Even, that’s the thing. He misses him so fucking much.

*

It’s a Tuesday, the day that it happens, and Isak thinks about it the entire next day, but he doesn’t say anything, because that Thursday, it’s Even’s birthday.

He’s pulled Even with him to the candy store a few roads from their flat in a somewhat desperate attempt to keep him out of the flat while the rest of them set the party up. He’s been trying really hard to keep it a secret, but Even is right, he’s a bad liar, and he’s kind of a bad planner, too, so:

He’s not really succeeding.

“Should we get some of that sour shit for you?” he asks, still, trying to keep the ruse of _everything is happening tomorrow, let’s just spend the actual day as a quiet night in_ up. He’s not really succeeding at that, either.

“I don’t know,” Even says, and there’s a smug smile on his face that Isak is trying very hard to ignore in order to pretend that he’s actually managing to pull this off in any capacity at all. “Should we get some of that sour shit for me?”

“Shut up,” Isak says. “Stop looking so amused.”

“I’m not amused.”

“ _I’m not amused_ ,” Isak copies, in an exaggerated voice, and Even looks so happy when he laughs.

“Isak?” he says.

“Yes?”

“You’re an absolutely terrible liar.”

“Stop,” Isak says, and smacks him in the chest with the plate of chocolate he’s holding, which only makes Even laugh even more. “I’m doing great. Tell me I’m doing great.”

“You’re doing great.”

“Now you’re the liar.”

More laughter. Isak rolls his eyes, and pretends not to want to smile about it.

“You should have seen your face,” Even says. “Every time I’ve asked you about tonight it’s just been instant panic. You’re so unsubtle.”

“Shush.”

“Was it your idea?”

It was, of course, although everyone else got on board very quickly, and although he’s been pulling heavily on Mikael to help him finish the planning these last few days.

“We were all in on it,” he says, and Even grins like he knows what that means.

“Isak,” he says. “This is a really, really nice thing to do.”

It is. It really kind of is, and since Isak realised that, at around 1am last night, he’s been having a quiet freak-out about it. This really is maybe a little too nice to be something a friend would do.

“Well you know me, I’m nice,” he says, because it’s not like he’ll say any of that. “Just at least pretend to be surprised, okay?”

“Oh, you'll be convinced," Even says. "I'm a much better liar than you.”

*

It’s a really lovely night.

Everyone has a good time, there’s enough beer, and no-one throws up. Even’s happy, which is the most important thing, and he’s even convincing when he pretends to be surprised, just like he promised Isak he'd be. He drinks a little, like he always does, his birthday being the exception to his rules, and even though it makes him pretty cuddly, Isak thinks they can still pass it off as nothing.

He likes Isak’s present, too: two tickets to a Gabrielle concert, one for Isak and one for him. Actually he likes it so much that Isak feels like he gave him something much bigger than what it really is, but Even seems so genuinely moved that he’s not going to tease him about it.

While they sit on the couch, then, Even somewhat drunkenly draped over him, chatting nonsense into his ear that Isak can’t stop smiling about, Jonas catches his eye from across the room. When he does he looks between them and raises his eyebrows, _are you together now?_ but Isak shakes his head, minuscule bit, because they’re not.

After, Jonas shrugs and grimaces, _sorry_ , and Isak shrugs, too, before he returns his attention to Even, who’s saying drunk things to Adam, now. He can feel it, too, how his eyelids grow heavier and his face grows soft, just by looking at him.

He’s in way too deep.

A lot of people want to stay over, so Isak pretends to be annoyed about it when he gives up his bed to Mutta, Adam and Mikael, and sleeps in Even’s room instead.

When they’re inside, Even locks the door behind them, and Isak thinks that’s the first time that that's ever happened to it.

“I can’t believe you did all this for me,” Even whispers, once they’re lying across from each other on the bed, lit only by the moonlight coming through his window. “And that you gave me Gabrielle tickets.” 

Isak smiles. 

“You’ll really go to something you hate for me?”

“I don’t hate her,” Isak protests. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t hate the experience. I’d get to see you be happy, wouldn't I?”

“Isak,” Even says. And at first he smiles, a tender, tilted-headed thing, that Isak recognises but doesn’t get to see too often anymore. It’s so open, and so vulnerable, and Isak might be a bad liar, but Even’s always been the one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and then–

He closes his eyes and turns to his back and away.

“We can’t do this anymore,” he says, and Isak realises way, way, way too late that despite his adamance to not let this hurt Even, that might be exactly what it’s done, because right now Even looks exactly how Isak felt last time they had sex. “We need to stop.”

The ache in his voice makes Isak’s heart ache, too.

“Oh,” he says.

“I can’t–” Even inhales, heavy, then exhales. “It’s just not working.”

“Okay,” Isak says. “That’s fine, we’ll stop.” 

They probably shouldn’t even ever have started, or they probably should have stopped a while ago. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

It is, though. It really kind of is.

“I’m sorry that you’re not happy,” Isak says, instead, because it’s true and because Even won’t deflect that. “I’m sorry if this is making you sad.”

“It’s not making me sad, it’s making me happy, but that’s what’s why it has to stop.”

Isak doesn’t think Even is doing it on purpose, but if Isak were to tailor exactly what he should say to break Isak’s heart the most, then it would be something like that.

He feels guilty. So fucking guilty. And he’s pretty sure this feels like being broken up with, but he wouldn’t actually know.

The last time they did it, it was his choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just loooove teasing you with those last sentences, don't i? 
> 
> what are your thoughts? what are your ideas? how are you feeling about this? tell me in the comments, i love to hear from you!


	3. Exes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! sorry to have kept you waiting with this. i wanted to post it yesterday but then i hung out with a friend instead. damn you real life 
> 
> anyway, fair warning, this is the one where we deal with what happened, and also the third act (@hollywood executives i'm still on this) which means that this is the moment where things look the most bleak which then means that there are some sad parts. hope you enjoy (lol)!

The most important thing, in Isak’s life, is that he gets to share it with Even.

That’s the question, then, that he lies away thinking of after Even has fallen asleep, and that’s the question that he keeps thinking of the moment he wakes up again: how are they going to fix this, so they can stay friends like they've always been?

They might have to change things. They might have to touch less, or talk more, or spend less nights sharing the same routine. They might have to pick a new label and stick to that instead, and he’ll do it, too, because he’ll do whatever it takes.

He’s a devoted person, a determined person, and he’s not going to let this go. So:

“What now?” he asks the next afternoon, after the last person has left and they’re sitting at the kitchen island alone, across from each other, drinking tea in the middle of the leftover mess from the party last night.

That seems fitting, Isak thinks. The empty bottles and the wrapping paper and the balloons on the ceiling, all looking so much different in the light of day; no longer vibrant, but just a mess. 

“What are we going to do now?”

Even is looking just as exhausted as Isak feels, sitting across from him with his chin in his palm and his elbow on the table, staring into thin air while his skin looks grey and his under-eye circles look dark and puffy, although it’s been hours since they got out of bed. His hair is a mess, and he’s twenty-three now, but he looks nineteen. Looks as sad as he did when he was nineteen.

“We have to stop sleeping together,” he says, and Isak hates that it sounds like this, almost business terms, but he knows that it has to for them to be alright, so he just nods. “And we should probably change the order in which we think of what we are to each other.”

For the first time in a while, he glances up to meet Isak’s gaze.

“Not friends first and exes second, but exes first and friends after that.”

“Yeah,” Isak says. “Okay.”

“Which means boundaries,” Even goes on. “We can’t cuddle at night like friends, we can’t kiss each other’s cheeks.”

It really does feel like breaking up. Like having your heart ripped out of you at the thought of having to let go of someone. Of having to reign in your touches, and reign in your love, and having to let go of all the little things that lovers do but exes don’t.

“Okay,” Isak says, and his heart is sinking deep in his chest, or maybe it’s shrivelling up instead, but he can’t do anything to stop it.

“We should probably start dating other people.” That’s the worst suggestion, but Isak nods. “And give each other a chance to move on.”

 _Give you a chance to move on_ , Isak thinks. _I have to stop keeping you in this limbo and give you a chance to move on, because I’m the one who broke up with you once._

It hurts because Even hurts. Because Even is hurting, and it’s his fault.

“Okay,” he says, instead of saying any of that.

It’s not until an hour or so later, when he takes a shower to get away for a second, that he finally lets himself cry.

It happens under the spray of water, into the palms of his hands, for about a minute or so. Then he washes his face, blows his nose, and turns the water back off again.

*

It doesn’t mean it stops taking it out of him.

When he dumps himself in the chair besides Sana in the lecture hall that Monday, it’s the first time in a while that he’s been on time, and also the first time that she doesn’t comment on his mood.

She watches him though, so he knows she sees it: the dark circles and the messy hair and the complete lack of energy he has; how downtrodden he feels, like the marrow of his bones is weighing him down or being sucked out of him.

She continues not saying anything, as he fishes his laptop and his notebook out, despite the fact that he didn’t do the readings and probably won’t be listening, and God–

He’s leans forward, elbows on the table, and hides his face in his palms again.

It’s just taking so much effort just to keep himself afloat, right now. He feels like he’s losing his grip on everything, like he just wants to give up for a second, and sleep instead, just sleep.

But he can’t. And he also refuses to shut down, because that wasn’t a good way to live, so instead he counts seconds into his palms, ten and he’ll return to the real world, while he tries to take in some proper breaths.

When he reaches three he feels Sana’s hand come up to touch his shoulder, and he doesn’t say anything about it, but is grateful for it as he keeps counting.

Even was the one to teach him this, actually. The one who made him feel like maybe it was okay to share with people, to depend on them, to let them in.

They’re so intertwined in each other. Maybe that’s why this is so hard.

“Sorry,” he says, when he reaches ten and leans back, and Sana takes her hand away. 

“Just tune out,” she says, instead of commenting on that, and he loves her for it. How practical she always is. “I’ll take good notes and give them to you. You won’t even need to do the reading.”

He's so exhausted that even this makes him want to cry. He doesn't.

“Thank you,” he says, instead.

She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but he knows that it is. He knows that Sana is the same as him, which is exactly the opposite of Even: not people who are compassionate as a natural impulse, but deliberate in the way they take care people, and doing it because of a deliberate choice; because they’re angry, misunderstood, traumatised people, who only want to be kind.

“You’ll be okay,” she says, and when it comes from her, he actually believes it.

Later, at lunch, he meets up with the boys, and he’s the last to arrive to the circle outside, where they’re all standing and chatting to each other. Jonas is the first to catch sight of him, and when he does, he frowns.

“Hey, man,” he says, slapping Isak’s hand hello. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Don’t say nothing. “Or–” He sighs, shrugs, clears his throat. “It’s just Even stuff.”

Everyone turns their attention to him.

“What sort of stuff?” Mahdi asks. And Magnus:

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s not–” Isak pinches the bridge of his nose against the headache that’s forming. “It’s me and Even stuff.”

“Right.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now. Can we just–?” He waves his hand in the direction of the cafeteria. “Please.”

“Yeah,” Jonas says. “Of course. Let’s go, then.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He doesn’t tell the boys the details that day, but he does tell them some of them later, in a watered-down sort of version: _we slept together for a little bit, and it didn’t turn out that great._

Even, in turn, avoids him a little, or in any case he makes himself busy.

It makes Isak nervous, of course, but he also doesn’t say anything, because it’s not like he has a right to make demands. Still, when he goes to the gym with Even’s guys, he asks them if Even is doing okay, and to his great relief, they nod.

“Is he mad at me?” he asks Mikael, once the two of them are standing alone, but Mikael shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “Not mad, never mad. Not at you. But he’s sad, I think.”

“Yeah.” Isak is fucking sad, too. “Do you think he's okay, though?"

"Yeah, I think he's okay."

"Okay. Are _you_ mad at me?"

"Isak." Mikael shakes his head, but smiles. "I know Even-related guilt better than anyone. I can't really talk, can I?"

Isak shrugs.

"You'll be okay," Mikael says. "The two of you are always okay."

Isak hopes that he's right. He really, really hopes that he's right.

That evening, when he comes home, Even is watching a movie, sitting on the couch, for once, instead of in his own room.

“Hey,” Isak says, toeing his shoes off and shrugging off his jacket, as Even turns around to glance at him.

“Hi.”

“What are you watching?”

“Uh–” Even says, turning around again to look at the TV, like he’s forgotten. Then: “Something pretentious?”

He says it so casually, but Isak recognises it as the outstretched hand that it probably is. So:

“So just the regular, then?” he says, and watches it with relief when it makes Even smile.

“Guess so,” he says. And then, doing more than Isak could have ever hoped for: “Do you maybe want to join?” 

For once, Isak is genuinely surprised. 

“I have snacks. I think you might even like this movie.”

“Really?” Isak asks, and Even nods. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

“Okay.”

When he makes it to the couch Even scoots over, so Isak dumps himself down besides him, grabbing a blanket from the armrest and wrapping himself up in it. Even is in his sweatpants and a hoodie, and it’s so domestic, and so nice, and Isak has missed it so much.

After they’ve finished the movie it’s late, and they go to the bathroom and navigate around each other as they get ready for bed. Isak is just brushing his teeth, and Even is taking his meds, too, but he's still done first. 

“Night, Is,” he says, moving towards the doorway, but Isak calls after him before he can make it the whole way out.

“Even?” he says, and Even stops in his tracks and nods, leaning against the doorway; halfway in and halfway out. Watches him and waits. “Are we okay? Or will we be, I mean?”

The smile Even gives him is sad today, but it is a smile. Then he nods.

“We’re okay,” he says. And he always wears his heart on his sleeve, but when he has to he’s great at hiding things, so:

“And now the truth?” Isak asks. Even smiles again.

“That is the truth,” he says. “I promise.”

*

A month or so passes then, while they try their best to stay afloat and rebuild a friendship that’s a friendship alone; the kind that two exes would have.

Even keeps up with the rules, in that he stops kissing Isak’s cheek and touches him less when they’re on the couch together, although he doesn’t stop touching him entirely either. He even goes on a few dates, a couple of guys and a couple of girls, and Isak is jealous, sure, but it’s an emotion he can deal with, just like he deals with all the other ones.

For him there’s not any dating happening, but there wasn’t really before, either, so no one really comments on it. Except–

Their course is big, but their seminars are smaller, and they switched around to include new people this fourth semester, and well: there’s a guy.

Isak notices that he’s handsome, the first day, but then kind of stops thinking about him. He seems to be thinking a lot about Isak, though. It’s a while before Isak really catches onto that, but then suddenly one day he’s sitting quite close, and then he keeps laughing at Isak’s jokes, and then he watches him a lot, and well–

One day he waits for Isak to pack up so they can walk towards the tram together, and then he asks Isak out, and Isak:

Well, Isak accepts.

It's a really good date.

They go out that Thursday. His name is Julian, and he's actually quite pretty, and apparently he likes Isak quite a lot, because he takes him to a café-that's-a-bar-at-night where a physicist is doing a lecture about electrons and free will, _because sometimes you mention the universe and I thought you might like it_. He's done his research, and he's flirting, and he's funny, and he's easy to talk to, too. 

It's a really good date. It doesn't matter at all. Isak could move on, but he doesn't want to.

A few days later Even comes down with the flu.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, I’m fine,” he says, from the couch where Isak has parked him and made him wrap himself up in his duvet to keep warm. “Isak. I can’t drink tea, I’m sweating.”

“You need to sweat it out,” Isak calls to him, from where he’s making Even a cup of tea and finding him an aspirin, wishing he could give him some ibuprofen but knowing that he can’t because it doesn’t mix well with lithium. It's the kind of thing he never thought he'd know, but that he does know now, intimately. “Stop whining.”

“I have things to do.”

“What things do you need to do that you can’t do from this couch after taking a nap?” Isak asks, coming over to the couch with the pill and the tea. “Seriously, tell me. Can you even tell me?”

Even stays silent, but looks annoyed. He’s always like this when he’s sick though, absolutely refusing to just lie still for a day or two so he can get better quickly, instead wanting to run around being contagious and making everyone else ill, too.

“See?” he says, when Even keeps being quiet. “You can’t. Now take this, and you’ll be fine soon.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re welcome to think that, but you still have to take the medicine.”

After fixing him with another look, Even sits up and takes the pill from Isak’s palm, swallowing it dry before Isak, pointedly, hands him the glass of water that sits right there on the coffee table and waits until he drinks. Even takes it, but does so while rolling his eyes, before he lies back down.

“I hate you,” he mumbles.

“That’s okay.”

Even tries to pull the duvet down, and throw it onto the floor, but it really is true that he needs to sweat this out, so Isak grabs the duvet before it’s down and pulls it up around his shoulders again, tugging him in while Even grows to look increasingly annoyed.

“I’m sweating,” he says.

“You need to. I’ll get you some more water, okay?”

“Don’t phrase it like a question when you’ll be doing it anyway.”

Isak rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment, just heads towards the kitchen to re-fill his water glass and wet a flannel with cold water for him, too.

When he comes back Even has sat up just enough to drink the tea, and when he lies back down it’s on his back, so Isak can place the flannel on his forehead. Before he does, he tests Even’s temperature with the back of his hand, and then his wrist, and just like their rules dictate it, it’s the first time in weeks that he’s touched Even’s face like this.

“I hate this,” Even says, but quiet now, so Isak knows it's no longer whining. “I feel really bad.”

“I know.” Isak touches his cheek, now, but with the back of his hand like when he touched his forehead, to check the temperature there, too. Then, before he can do anything stupid, like touch Even’s chapped lips, too, he takes his hand back. “I’m afraid you just have to get through it.”

“Will you stay?” Even asks, and it feels like the it punctures the bubble of longing and affection that Isak’s been trying to keep under wraps, making it all spill back into his veins in a way that is undeniable.

Actually, his second date with Julian was supposed to happen that night, but Isak has already texted him: _Sorry, emergency with a friend. Rain check? I promise that I’m not lying_. So:

“Of course,” he says, and praises the heavens that Even is too far gone being ill to properly notice the softness of his voice. “I’ll stay.”

“Thank you,” Even says, and then: “I just hate lying still and not doing anything. I really need to pass this semester, I have to graduate this summer.”

It breaks Isak's heart a little, how fucking hard he's trying. Breaks his heart a little that he has to, but makes him proud, too, that he's doing it.

“You will," he says. “Of course you will. And if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world to have to try again.”

“I’m tired of having to try again.”

“Yeah, I know."

Actually, he thinks that Even is incredible exactly because he keeps on trying again. He still runs away from his problems sometimes, and it’s not like Even always has a choice, but he’s seen Even come back every single time he's stumbled. He’s seen him going from failing a year to doing great at uni, from abandoning his meds to persisting with them, keeping it going until the dosage was right, and from having fallen out with his friends to rebuilding everything they used to have.

He does it with his movies, too, coming back to the craft constantly because it’s something he’s passionate about. And he does it with his life: keeps working at it, although sometimes it seems to overwhelm him.

“You don’t have to do it alone, though.”

Even smiles at him, at that, a private thing, that tells Isak that he already knows.

It’s probably the part of his life that Isak is the most proud of. The fact that they were both so sad when they met, so hopeless and isolated and hard on themselves, but that they took all of that helped each other build something from it. Built this life of theirs that they’re sharing right now.

Even hates the second tries, though. It's one of the reasons Isak hasn't asked for one.

He remembers it all in snapshots now, too bright to even look at, because of the intensity of everything he felt back then. He remembers it all like memories, a little blurred at the edges, except for the sudden things that stand out with complete and utter clarity: the way it felt the first time Even kissed him, the smell of the hair-gel he wore back then, the afternoon they spent kissing in his bed and talking about the universe.

The way he looked on the day they broke up.

They meet when Isak is seventeen and Even is nineteen, and it takes them almost no time to fall deeply, deeply in love.

The rest of it kind of reads like a tragedy.

They're both very traumatised when they meet, and for a while it works out great. Even helps Isak come out, and he reminds Isak that it's okay to share things with people, depend on people, want to be cared for by people, something which his dad leaving has kind of made him forget. Even is beautiful, and vivid, and moving a little bit too fast, at times, sometimes too fast for Isak to follow, but Isak gets swept up in it anyway. 

It's magical. It's almost too good to be true. Sometimes, he thinks, it feels like they’re sitting in a car running red lights, because they’re too busy being in love to care enough to look at the road.

Even is hiding that he's sick. Isak only finds out when he crashes. 

It scares the shit out of him.

There's this video of Even online somewhere, that Mikael filmed of him once, where he talks about love stories and how they're only good if they're tragic. Actually, he talks about how they're only good if someone dies in the end.

Isak thinks maybe it's his fault.

When they meet Even still has a bunk bed, and Even’s parents love him, and both of those things have always made Isak want to cry. On one of the first days they spend together, it’s fall and Isak has forgotten a sweater, so Even lets him borrow his. It smells of him, and Isak wears it as he stands there, watching Even laughing and feeling the whole world shifting beneath his feet as he realises that he’s in love with him.

He’s still got that sweater in a drawer in his room right now.

When Even comes to, it's in Isak's kollektivet bed, and Isak has been watching him sleeping all morning, trying and trying and trying to figure out what to do. Then Even opens his eyes and Isak knows that the only thing that matters is that Even ends up being okay.

"You should leave," Even says, the moment that he can. "I've hurt you."

Isak doesn't say anything, but lies across from him and watches him. Even's eyes widen.

"You're leaving?" he asks.

"No." Isak shakes his head before he leans in close, noses touching and foreheads touching, because that's their thing. "I love you. But–"

Even closes his eyes. 

"Do you think maybe it would be better if we were friends?"

"You don't have to do that," Even says. "You can just break up with me."

"No." Isak shakes his head again, angrier and more determined, this time. "I'm not leaving your life. I won't let you push me away."

"Okay." Even reaches out to brush a thumb across his cheek, which is how Isak knows that his sadness and frustration is leaking, because Even always cares for him like this, touches him like this when he needs to be touched. "Breathe, Isak. It's okay."

"It's scary."

It is. 

That's what he's really feeling, so much so that he has to whisper it, and that's the part that he's never really forgiven himself for since: that most of the reason why he thinks it'd be better if they were friends is that he thinks it might be better for Even, but that some of it, a tiny part of it, is because he's scared. Because he's seventeen, and overwhelmed, and not equipped to deal with this. Because he still has abandonment issues, and Even lies to him a lot, and Even runs away a lot, too, and this feels more real than anything else, but it also feels really unstable.

"I'm sorry," Even says. "It’s scary for me, too."

It breaks Isak's heart that he feels that way. And he wishes, with everything he's got, that he could say that he's not actually scared. That he could tell Even not to worry his beautiful, wonderful mind, that it's all okay, that he can deal with this, that it's really no big deal. That Isak is a tough enough guy to carry the weight of the both of them on his shoulders.

But he's not. And he can't. 

So they're friends, instead, and Isak never really stops feeling like he failed him.

“Isak?” Even says now, and Isak returns to reality to find Even watching him, with a gentle smile. “Wasn’t your second date tonight?”

“It got re-scheduled,” Isak says.

“Okay.” Even nods, and Isak reaches over to adjust the flannel still sitting on his forehead. “Isak?”

“Yes?”

“You’re a really terrible liar.”

Isak snorts and smiles but says nothing, just keeps adjusting Even’s flannel without meeting his eye, before he brushes a knuckle over his cheek, clearly a tender touch this time, and leans back to his own end of the couch. He was a good liar once, actually, hid his biggest secret for years, and did it successfully, too, but Even's always seen through him. Even's always known.

He's looking at Isak, now.

”I’m sorry that I'm burdening you," he says, but Isak shakes his head.

”You’re not," he says, and it’s important to him that Even knows. He tries to tell him all the time. “You know I think you’re not. I want to be here.”

“Okay.” Even relaxes back into the couch. “Will you read to me?”

Isak smiles. Of course he will.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll read to you.”

He does. He finds the book that Even was reading and then starts from the bookmark, ignoring that he won’t be able to follow along with the plot, and then he reads.

Eventually Even falls asleep, breathing slowly with his duvet still pulled up to his chin. Isak reaches over to remove the flannel from his forehead, and to tug the duvet in around his shoulder, and then he sits back and watches him, smile on his face, and feels something shift inside of him.

He never goes on the second date. Instead, he talks to Jonas.

“Do you think I'm a bad person?" he asks, one day while they’re walking back from campus together, and there's been no build-up but it's like Jonas have known that something was coming anyway. At least he doesn't look surprised. Just looks at Isak and shakes his head.

"Obviously not," he says. "Would I be friends with you if I did?"

Isak shrugs.

"What's this about, Is?"

"I'm in love with Even."

"Yes." He says it like it's nothing. Like it's not at all a surprise. "I know. I think we all do."

It's just so much. It's so overwhelming, and it's so sad, too, because Isak loves him so much. Has always loved him so much. And all he wants is for Even to hold him, and kiss him, and tell him that it's okay, and it's not fair to ask that of him. It's just not fair.

He stops in his tracks, in the middle of the street, and hides his face in his palms, trying to breathe through it.

"Hey." 

Jonas comes back to him.

"I'm exactly like my dad."

"No."

"How not?" Isak asks. "I leave when it's too difficult, and then when it's all swell and easy again, I want to come back?"

Jonas reaches out to touch his shoulder, and now it's even harder not to cry.

”Isak,” he says. “You’re trying so hard. I’ve never met anyone who sticks around for the people he loves like you do.”

"I don't know what to do,” Isak says. “I love him."

"Tell him."

"I can't."

"Why?" Jonas asks. "Isak–"

"I don't deserve a second chance."

He feels it the second that he says it. That that's the kicker that's been holding him back, that that's the bullet that's been stuck in his flesh, that that's the center of the problem. He feels horrible for leaving, so fucking horrible, and he'd never stop being in love with Even, can't imagine even wanting to, but he feels like he deserves this: to be pining, and sad, and desperate, because he doesn't deserve a second chance.

Before he can do anything else, Jonas has enveloped him in a hug.

"Yes, you do," he says, rubbing Isak's back. "You’re just human, Is. Sometimes you seem to forget that a bit. It's okay to still be in love with him."

Maybe it's like a wound, actually, and like bacteria oozing out of it. Maybe it's like the block that's been stopping him from feeling these things has finally been removed.

"Remember the whole thing with Ingrid?" Eva asks, when they meet her at her and Jonas's flat later, and Isak nods because he does. "I had to forgive myself for that. What good does your guilt do now?"

No good, is the truth. It keeps him being a pining mess, and it keeps Even in this limbo, too. 

Isak has to tell him, he just has to. For both of their sakes, but for his own, too. He has to let him know.

That evening, he comes home. When he does Even is in the kitchen cooking,

It’s a somewhat rare occurrence although whenever it happens that someone is cooking, it’s almost always him. It smells good, though, and it makes the flat warm, and there’s something so domestic about it that Isak’s heart clenches.

“Hey,” he says, and Even turns around to give him a smile. “Special occasion?”

“Nah, just felt like doing something practical. It’s chicken, if you want some?”

“Sure,” Isak says, and with jacket and shoes off now, he heads towards the kitchen and the kitchen island, where he sits down on a stool to watch Even working. He feels weak from earlier, and tired, too, but also a little relieved. Like something that was holding him back has finally left. “How long have you been home?”

“A few hours,” Even says, and then, turning around with something on his spoon. “Here, taste this.” 

Isak does, holding onto his wrist to keep his hand steady. 

“Good?”

“Mm-hm.”

Isak wipes the corner of his lips with his thumb, and watches Even’s back when he turns back to the stove and works.

He’s always loved the domesticity of the life that they have together. The things that it gives him that he never had before, the warmth and the comfort and the tangible feeling of doing something with affection. 

The stability.

He just wants a simple life, where he can cook with Even and take care of his friends. He’s trying so hard to build something worthwhile out of the mess he was given, and Even has helped him more than anything, and he wants to give Even something back, and he wants to be with him.

“Did you have a good day?” he asks, because that’s all that really matters to him.

“Yeah,” Even says. “Great day. I mean Mikael wants to reshoot some stuff, but I managed to talk him out of it, so that fire was put out. Which means it was practically a miracle day.” Isak snorts. “Did you?”

“Yeah, mine was good, too.”

“Good. What are you doing tonight, then?” Even turns around to glance at him when he asks, so Isak shrugs instead of saying something. “Do you want to hang out? We could watch a movie?”

“One of your pretentious things?” Isak asks, to make Even smile, but in reality he wants nothing more than that. “Or something that’s actually entertaining?”

Even snorts.

“Shut up,” he says. “Also, I don’t know why I’m still the one getting teased like this, Mikael is much worse than me, and you know it.”

“He is,” Isak agrees. “But he’s also not as fun to make fun of.”

Before Even turns back to the stove he flips Isak off, and Isak laughs, too.

They spend the entire night together. At first Isak tries to help with the cooking by cutting up some vegetables, and then they eat, together, and they talk. Afterwards they do watch a movie, on the same couch and sharing a blanket, and Isak thinks it’s the perfect night.

He's aware, too, that he's watching Even. That he's watching Even without the front that he usually tries to pull up, to hide the way that he's really feeling because he doesn't think it's fair to let Even see it. But it's gone now, the block, and he can't stop it anymore, from probably spilling out of him as his eyes follow Even's every move, and his lips keep being curled up in a smile.

Even notices. 

It takes him a while, but halfway through they're lying side by side, under a blanket with their feet up on their coffee table, when Even turns his head to his side and watches him back. It takes him a second before he frowns, and then another second before he smiles, instead.

"What?" he says.

"Hm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Isak asks. He raises his brows in question, although of course he already knows, and watches as Even watches him, looking between his eyes beause that's how close they are before he, with another smile, turns back to watching the TV, so Isak is looking at his profile, instead. 

He keeps smiling, though. Lips pressed together like he's trying to contain it.

"Isak," he says, still not looking at him. "Do you know you're a terrible liar?"

Isak smiles. 

It dawns slowly, but then it's there, because it must mean that Even knows. Of course Even knows. Isak was jealous of Sonja, and wanted to have sex with him, and cancels everything to be around him. Of course Even must know.

"So you keep telling me," he says, and, instead of confirming what Even is probably asking: “You don't think it's bullshit?”

"Why would I think it's bullshit?" Even asks, still looking at the TV, like maybe if they speak in riddles like this and avoid looking at each other, they will actually be able to say it out loud.

"I pulled away?" Isak says. "I'm asking you for a second chance?"

Now Even looks at him. Studies him, really, with an intense gaze, before he smiles again. A knowing smile, a soft smile, a smile that Isak wants to kiss.

"You know why Sonja broke up with me?" he asks, and Isak shakes his head, just barely, but Even's gaze still follows the movement. 

"She said," he continues, "that she knew that I loved her, which I did."

He makes sure to meet Isak's gaze, now.

"But that I would always be more devoted to you."

"I miss you so much." 

It just blurts out of Isak, like a reflex, like he's unable to hold it in anymore. 

Even looks surprised for a second, before he looks sad for one, but then, in the end, he smiles. He tilts his head, like he's fond, and then he reaches out to brush the back of his knuckle over Isak's cheek.

Isak makes an embarrasing sound as he closes his eyes and leans into it. After a second Even removes his hand, but then a moment later it's back again, in the form of a palm to Isak's cheek, and a thumb brushing over it.

Isak opens his eyes again. Even is still studying him.

"I'm scared," Even says, a whisper under his breath. "I'm scared of fucking it up again."

Isak shakes his head, hand coming up to the cup the back of Even's that's still on his cheek, because now he's brave enough to keep it there.

"No," he says. "You're amazing."

"I thought you weren’t telling me because it got fucked up last time. You’re so obvious, Isak. I knew.”

There it is. Oh.

”I just thought you didn't want to try again, that you just wanted to be friends and that I had to move on. That’s why I’ve been hiding my feelings."

His feelings.

Isak keeps shaking his head, brave enough to cup Even's cheek now, too.

”No,” he says, a quiet whisper, too, but he means it. “No, Even. I thought it would be unfair to tell you, because I was the one who left.”

”Do you really blame yourself for that?” 

”Of course.”

”Don’t,” Even says. "We agreed. And you were allowed.” 

Of course Even thinks that. Selfless, beautiful Even, who's never been able to see how wonderful he is, and who's never been able to see how much he deserves. 

Someone should love him. He's the kind of person who someone should love, and everyone would. Selfishly Isak wants to be the one who gets to do it, to make him feel like he belongs in the world and someone wants him to be there.

“You were seventeen," Even goes on, and Isak should have known he would do it like this: sticking up for Isak instead of for himself. "I scared you.”

"You did," Isak says, because it's the truth, and because he promised Even not to lie, once, at least about the important things. As he does, though, he brushes his thumb across Even's cheekbone, too, like Even did to him a moment ago, and he's always done it like that: emulated what Even gives him, because it's Even who really taught him about love. It's Even who helped him make his life into the thing that it is today. "I’m so sorry that that's the truth."

He reaches out to fix the hair behind Even's ear.

"I really do think you're amazing, though."

It's not funny. It's not. But Even still huffs out a single breath like it is, only just audible, and smiles. Isak smiles, too.

Their hands are on each other's cheeks. Even leans in closer.

It's like it was back when they were together: forehead to Isak's forehead, and nose to Isak's nose. 

"Isak," he whispers, breath of it ghosting over Isak's lips, as Isak lifts his chin in reflex, chasing Even's lips that are so, so close. He's never wanted to be kissed this badly. But then Even lifts his chin, too. "Please."

Isak's never been the one to kiss first before.

Isak kisses him first.

It's a barely-there-kiss at first, a soft press of their lips together, but it makes the breath go out of the both of them. Isak wants to be closer to him, so he pulls him closer, back of his neck, kisses him firmly before he shifts them around, him in Even's lap, pressing closer, closer, closer, chest to chest and palms to his cheeks, never wanting to let go of him again.

It's not enough. 

He stops kissing him to hug him instead. He was always the one to initiate the hugs.

"I love you," he says, into the crook of Even's neck where he's burying his face. "I didn't stop."

"I know," Even says, and when they pull back, foreheads together again, they're both smiling. Isak leans in to kiss him, too, making it longer than it needs to be, drawing Even in close and just pressing their lips together, kissing him again and one more time, because now he's allowed. "I love you. I didn't stop."

Isak smiles, almost embarrasingly wide, and when Even sees he chuckles about it, under his breath, as he tocuhes his fingers to Isak's cheeks.

"You're happy," he whispers, like he's in awe.

"I'm a mess," Isak says.

This time when Even chuckles, it's louder, and Isak joins in, too, beaming because he _is_ happy, he's so fucking happy, this is making him so happy. 

"You're the best thing in my life."

Even smiles even wider.

"Sana said this thing," Isak goes on, because he's making his argument now. "Well, it was Yousef who told her, but, anyway: she talked about how it's not one big choice, it's a bunch of small ones."

"What are you saying?" Even asks.

"Try with me." 

Isak's not sure he's allowed to ask, but at the same time Even might need him to. So: 

"It's you, Even. And we're so close already anyway, so you don't have to be scared.” He won’t let fear tear them apart this time. “It will work, it's already working. Please. Try with me?"

Even smiles. Tilts his head, brushes his thumb across Isak's cheek one more time.

Nods.

"Okay," he says. "Logical boy."

Isak chuckles, a desperate and relieved sound, and then he hugs Even again. Close, close, even closer, before he kisses him again, too. 

"Really?" he asks, and Even nods.

"Yeah," he says. "Of course."

He smiles that tender smile again, and touches Isak's cheek.

"It's you."

*

“You’re like a study in emotions,” Sana says, the next day, when he drops down besides her in the lecture hall. “They’re changing all the time.”

“Yeah?” Isak says, completely aware that he looks like a mess, but not giving a shit about it, because he's dating Even again, now. He's in love with Even, and he's said it out loud, and Even is in love with him, too, and, more than that, they're going to give the two of them another shot. “What’s this one, then?”

“Happy?”

She says it like it's a question, but it’s obvious by the way she’s smiling that she already knows the answer. He nods anyway.

“Yeah,” he says. “Happy.”

When they get out of the lecture that afternoon, Even is waiting in the hallway outside, leaning against the wall, and when he catches sight of the two of them, his face lights up. It makes Isak feel overwhelmingly giddy, stomach swooping and chest going warm, and it makes him want to rush up to him and kiss him senseless right now.

He doesn't. But only because Sana is here.

"Hey," he says, instead, when they arrive, voice so fond that Sana rolls her eyes.

"Hi," Even says, softly too, which makes Isak blush, and then: "There's my two genuises. Hi, Sana."

"Hi," Sana says, and lets Even lean down to kiss her cheek. 

"Good lecture?"

"Mm-hm."

"Like you heard a single word of it," Sana says, and Even laughs. "Anyway, I have to meet Yousef, don’t comment, so I'm gonna leave you two alone now."

Isak snorts.

"Alright."

"Good to see you," Even says, and as they watch her go he throws an arm around Isak's shoulders, drawing him into a halfway embrace. 

After she's gone, they turn back to each other, and now Isak faces him and encircles his waist with his arms, before he leans his temple on Even’s shoulder, wanting to be close. Even cards his fingers through his hair and leans down to kiss his forehead. 

”You okay?” he asks.

”I love you.”

He says it to make Even smile, but also because it’s what he’s feeling: love, and relief that he’s allowed to share it, and a need to just be close to him now, because he finally can.

Even does smile.

”I missed you,” he says, like he's flirting.

”It’s been three hours.”

Even snorts.

”Well,” he says. “When someone’s your boyfriend you miss them quite quickly.”

Isak grins. Of course he grins, and it's almost embarrasing how little it takes for Even to do this to him, but at the same time it's not. Not when it makes Even grin back with delight, like he's doing right now, and poke at Isak's smiling cheek before he touches the tip of his nose, too.

"Eh?" he says. "I knew that'd work. Remember that you can't lie to me." 

He touches Isak's forehead, now. 

"Somewhere in there I swear you're just as soft and sappy as I am."

Isak raises his brows, to tease.

"Is that so?" he asks.

"Mm-hm." Even is leaning in closer now, their noses close, foreheads close, lips close. "You'll see."

"Okay." Isak leans in closer, too. They kiss. "Boyfriend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so the idea of this was to not add any drama that would make them break up, but to take the puzzle pieces of canon and try to fit them together in a different way to make that happen and explore their world post-that
> 
> also i wanted to do something new that wasn't "even breaks them up out of fear of hurting isak" or "it was purely miscommunication" (although i do appreciate both of those tropes) AND i thought it'd be interesting to write pining from the pov of the one who feels like he broke them up (in my imagination even thinks it was pretty mutual but isak thinks it was his choice and is guilty about it). so that's how all of this happened
> 
> anyway, how are we feeling about it all? hopefully pretty decent lol. i have no idea what your reactions will be, so please let me know in the comments, i'm excited to hear from you! 
> 
> also thanks for following along with this. hope you had as good of a time as you can have with post-break up stuff lol. talk to you soon <3


End file.
